


bouquet

by atramento



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: During Canon, F/M, Flowers, Foreshadowing, Language of Flowers, Mid-Canon, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 20:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19280521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atramento/pseuds/atramento
Summary: Argath receives a gift.(REPOST)





	bouquet

Argath stared at the flowers, as he had been all morning. These were blooms that he was familiar with only in their symbolism. Flowers he had seen quite often. Flowers that he’d grown to despise.

Blooms of yellow carnation signal naught but bitter disappointment and rejection for one unlucky enough to receive such flowers.

They were partially wilted; whether from being in Argath’s hand for hours now or because they had dried upon being picked the cadet did not know. It did not matter anyways, just the message the entire bouquet carried.

Any would-be lover will feel winter’s chill once given even a single icy bloom of anemone.

The lone anemone drew hot tears from Argath’s eyes... he remembered sitting in a field with her, plucking up flowers, holding them up to their face, and pretending those were their eyes. She had giggled more and held up two anemones to compare them to the hues of blue that were his own eyes.

“Tietra. I...” Argath could not finish nor even begin his sentence, blinking more tears away. How could the outcome have been any different? Had he, for a time, believed that there was any other response waiting? How could he have let himself believe?

He pulled the bouquet apart, scowling deeply and racked with sobs that never made a sound. Disgusting. As if the peasant girl could appreciate his love, his courtship any more than the ladies born from pedigreed bloodlines...

But as Argath was separating the flowers from one another to destroy each flower, a medium scrap of parchment wrapped around a single clover fell out, having been tucked in between the larger blooms.

Shaking, he stared at the note and clover a moment before picking up the parchment. ‘Dear Argath... I know seeing these flowers must ache in a way I have not experienced myself-- but I promise I did not send these out of cruelty.’ He paused before reading the rest as tears blurred his vision once more. ‘I love you. Tis the plain truth. And because I love you, I must relinquish you. You’re destined for far greater than I can ever conceive, Argath.’

“It... It didn’t have to be this way...” sobbed Argath, though in his heart he knew it did. Even scorned and downtrodden by other nobles, House Thadalfus was still a noble house itself. To marry Tietra, to mingle his blood with hers... would be the death knell of his family’s honor. And she had understood that. He hated her-- and loved her-- more for it.

‘With this bouquet, I end the tender moments between us. Much as I will dwell upon them in years to come, they cannot ever be again. All my love, Tietra.’

Watery blue eyes trailed back down to the clover, almost having forgotten the pathetic flower.

Clovers are one’s wish to never be forgotten; what they want to be remembered for certainly is never quite the same as another’s.

“I still love you...” Argath’s voice sounded slightly nasally from crying and a little hoarse. “I could never forget you, Tietra...” The parchment crinkled as he crushed it in his palm a little. He remained staring at the clover.

“And I will ensure that no other man would have you.”

**Author's Note:**

> One of the few stories I feel like putting back up post-clean out of my account.  
> I've found I rather love using the language of flowers-- and also hurting myself with pairings that will never be...


End file.
